


My body's broken, yours is bent

by KeepGoing



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, Cutting, Dark Derek, Dark Stiles, Darkness Around Stiles' Heart, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sex Is Not The Enemy, Soulmates, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1766794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeepGoing/pseuds/KeepGoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though the nogistune is gone, Stiles still feels the darkness and overwhelming guilt over Allison's death. He finds comfort and understanding in Derek.</p>
<p>
  <i>“This...darkness. This sadness. This anger. Is it what you feel all the time? Is it why…” Stiles hiccups, his chest heaving. “Is it why you don't let anyone in?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	My body's broken, yours is bent

There is a saying that two wrongs don't make a right. That two damaged people could never become anything but more chaos. 

Well, chaos has come again.

“Stiles?” Derek asks softly.

Stiles is standing, his back to him, staring out the large window into the darkness. Derek gently puts down bag of groceries down on the floor and walks carefully up behind Stiles. He stops a few feet back. “Stiles.” He says again.

“Is this what you feel like?” Stiles whispers, his voice quivering. He’s crying. Its all he ever does now. Cry and scream.

“I don't know what you mean.” Derek hasn't even bothered to turn any lights on yet. He normally doesn't on nights like this. When the moon is so bright it engulfs him. 

“This...darkness. This sadness. This anger. Is it what you feel all the time? Is it why…” Stiles hiccups, his chest heaving. “Is it why you don't let anyone in?”

Derek swallows hard, his own chest beginning to ache. “Yes.” He answers.

Stiles finally turns. His eyes are red and swollen along with his face. His cheeks are tear stained and his lips are wet. His clothes are wrinkled like he slept in them. Or he just can't be bothered to fold his laundry anymore. Derek knows better. Stiles doesn't sleep. 

“What are you doing here?” Derek takes a small step forward. Stiles flinches.

“I needed...I need…” Stiles begins. 

“What?” Derek whispers. He can barely hear his own voice.

“I need someone who understands. Tell me you understand.” Stiles pleads. He falls against Derek’s chest with one movement, clutching his biceps through his thin t-shirt. Derek presses his nose to the side of Stiles head and wraps himself around the teenager. He only wishes he had someone to hold him when he was this age. 

“I do. I do. I’m here.” Derek mumbles promises into Stiles hair. Stiles practically climbs him, unable to get close enough. He whines. 

Derek’s hands caress up the front of his shirt; he needs to feel skin. He needs to feel the warmth of Stiles. His fingers trace the scratches. Derek’s wolf whimpers. 

“Stiles…” He pulls Stiles arms away from him and gently pushes him back, trying to get a better view of the wounds on his torso. He knows them anywhere. 

He was 17 and in pain once too.

“What did you use?” Derek asks. Stiles won't look him in the eye. “Stiles, tell me.”

“Broken pen.” Stiles mumbles.

Derek nods. “I used to use gravel.”

Stiles head whips up and his eyes widen.

“I told you. I understand.”

And then Stiles kisses him. Its frantic. Unsteady. Angry yet somehow perfect. The end up on the floor, limbs everywhere. Lips in places Stiles has never been touched, and Derek feels Stiles settle into his heart and soul; somewhere Derek’s never been touched. 

There’s a saying that two wrongs don't make a right.

But Derek’s never believed in anything, anyway. 

**

“You’re gonna have scars.” Derek whispers; his fingertips grazing over the new cuts on Stiles stomach. 

“Too late.” Stiles whispers, his head falling to the side, nuzzling his nose into Derek’s pillow. “I like them. Reminds me…”

“Mine never stuck.” Derek admits. Stiles rolls his head back to look at him. His hand reaches up to Derek’s cheek. 

“I see them.”

Derek kisses him. His hearts so heavy, so full of feelings for this boy he can barely breathe. For the longest time he was so afraid Stiles would never understand. The sadness. The darkness. But Stiles sees it now. He feels it. He lives it.

The guilt. The resentment. The doom that hangs over him that he is completely out of control of everything in his life. There's no peace for Stiles anymore. No laughter. There's just this.

Stiles takes his hand, intertwining their fingers together. He examine Derek’s fingernails. 

“Let me see.” He asks. Derek knows what he wants. What he craves. The monster.

The beast. 

To match what's inside him now.

Derek's claws come out, wrapping around Stiles pale fragile hand. Stiles body hums with this and he pulls their hands up to his cheek. 

“Have you ever thought about changing me?” He asks so gently. Derek feels the need fill him up from top to bottom. 

“Yes.” He pauses. “But I won't. I like you human.”

Stiles huffs a laugh out. “I’m not human.”

“You are. You’re feeling. It makes you human. It's the only thing that keeps me human. The pain. The anger. Hold onto that.”

“I can't look Scott in the face. I want to go see Allison's Dad, tell him…” His voice breaks. “Tell him anything. But I can't make myself.”

“No one blames you. Not Scott, not Chris. No one.” Derek reassures him. “The only one who's blaming you, is you.”

“Well someone has to.” Stiles brings Derek’s clawed hand down to his stomach. He spreads out his fingers against his skin. He pushes down, trying to get Derek to dig his nails into his flesh.

“Stiles…” Derek warns. 

“Just a little.” Stiles pleads. 

“A scratch could…”

“Would you care? If it turned me? You know deep down its what you want, Derek. Just...I need to feel something.”

“You don't feel anything when I touch you?” Derek tries not to sound hurt.

“Please don't make this emotional. I’m here, aren't I? And you know its because you’re the only one who gets it. So please, I don't want to talk about what this means, or any shit like that. Not yet. Just...I wanna feel it.” Stiles presses Derek's hand harder onto his belly. 

Derek swallows hard, curving his fingers up so his nails pin against Stiles delicate skin. Stiles closes his eyes, almost in an instant trance at the sudden rush of pain. “Yes.” He moans. It makes Derek’s dick stir and he realizes in this moment how fucked up they both really are. But he’d rather be the one in control of Stiles pain; if Stiles ever really hurt himself Derek wouldn’t be able to go on. 

He knows that now. This is it for him. Stiles is his. He’s not letting go. 

He presses harder, the soft skin under his claws breaking like the plastic on an inflated balloon. He can smell the blood instantly and mere seconds later, it bubbles up and out of the puncture wounds and down Stiles sides. Derek instantly ducks his head, licking long lines over his skin, taking the red copper into his mouth. Stiles arches and moans, his hands grabbing the sheets besides him. 

This is wrong in every possible way Derek could think of. He’s hurting the person he cares about more than anything in the world. But somehow he knows, he’s helping him too. And right now Stiles is beautiful. He can literally feel the pain, even though he’s inflicting pain on him, drain away from Stiles. All Stiles feels right now is pleasure, and Derek is the reason. 

Derek’s clawed hand snakes up around Stiles neck and he squeezes around it as he takes his tongue between his teeth. Stiles wraps himself around Derek, arms, legs, everything, pulling Derek deeper and harder into him. 

Derek knows this is it. If he doesn't let it out now, this could end and Stiles would never know and he’d never have the nerve again. Stiles one day will be better. He’ll be that hyperactive, smiling, all over the place boy again who will one day be a man, and may never know that its him.

That its always been him.

Derek knows that it could make him leave. His words could end this right now on the spot and he could lose Stiles before anything has really begun. All he’d have is the memory of this night; a haunting dream during the day when he’s alone in his thoughts. 

But he doesn't care.

As his cock lines up with Stiles’s; as their bodies go from being parallel to merging into one body of need, he lets the words fall from his mouth. 

“It's you.”

Stiles pulls back, his eyes black with want, but creased at the edges with happiness. He almost smiles. 

“It's always been you.” Derek whispers. “But you deserve better.” He presses his hand to Stiles stomach to take the pain of the claw marks away. Stiles lets him. Tears form in his eye again. It breaks Derek’s heart. “One day all this pain will lessen. It won't ever completely go away but one day you’ll smile again. And sleep through the night. And you’ll fall in love. And I’ll be happy for you. Cause you deserve it. But for now, I’ll give you whatever it is you think you need from me. And when you finally walk away, I’ll always be here, Stiles. Cause it's you.”

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut, his chest vibrating with silent cries. He moves his face away from Derek’s, embarrassed of the tears he can't stop from coming. “You’re wrong.” He finally chokes out.

“I’m not. One day this will be better.” Derek reassures him.

Stiles shakes his head. “Not about that.” He looks back at him, sniffling, trying to get his breath back. He wraps his hand around the back of Derek’s neck, rubbing circles on the base. Derek searches his eyes, waiting. God, he is so beautiful. 

Stiles finally, for the first time in months, uplifts his mouth just a tiny bit into a smile. It takes Derek’s breath away. 

“I'll never walk away.”


End file.
